


Harder Hits Than This

by swampthot



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampthot/pseuds/swampthot
Summary: prompt fill requested by @ burngormanlesbianSet within Mac and Charlie Die. Charlie tries to take care of Mac after he crashes Dee's car into a wall.





	Harder Hits Than This

The only thing going through Charlie’s mind as he watches Mac crash the car into a wall at 30 miles per hour is, oh, my God, what a fucking moron.

Like yeah, Charlie knows he could be gravely injured, and that’s why he shrieks so loudly and runs at the car like a bat out of hell, heart hammering in his chest. “Holy shit, dude!” he screams. Then as it catches up to him just how- how stupid and reckless Mac is, “Why didn’t you jump out?” 

“I’m okay,” Mac says dizzily, climbing out of the car. “I’m okay, Charlie.” There’s a defined and almost comedic disconnect between his words and the disoriented, confused expression on his face, like a deer that just got hit by a slow-moving car.

“Holy shit dude, oh my God.” Charlie is still panicking. It’s catching up to him what could have happened to Mac. He had felt removed emotionally from the idea of Mac carrying out that dumbass plan, and reflecting, now, he realized that it was kinda sorta probably some kind of survival mechanism, making him concerned first and foremost with staying out of harm’s way. And he just got out of the car and let Mac endanger himself like that.

He feels sick.

“I guess I was going too fast,” Mac pants breathlessly. “I was going too fast.”

“Oh, my God. Alright, let’s get out of here.” Charlie may be having a panic attack; he has no idea of anything anymore, just that he needs to keep moving, and not think about what just happened. “We’re gonna have to burn the car.”

“Let’s do it.” Mac, as ever, is immediately game for whatever Charlie suggested. It tugs at Charlie’s insides a little bit.

“We’ll have to get some gasoline,” Charlie rambles, unconsciously reaching for Mac and feeling a sharp shock when Mac throws his arm over Charlie’s shoulder, and still feels that same current between them as they stumble together away from the wreck. “Holy shit!” Charlie begins to giggle a little hysterically.

But they barely make it ten feet before Mac seems to realize what’s going on, and removes his arm from Charlie’s shoulder. “I can walk, dude.” He then immediately stumbles and falls on his hands.

“No,” Charlie replies with more than a hint of amusement. “You can’t.”

“Dude,” Mac scoffs weakly, from his bizarre resting position on the ground, “I’ve taken harder hits than this.” He attempts to rise, taking another step, and begins to fall again.

But this time is different, because Charlie steps in front of him and catches him effortlessly, steadying him and holding him in his arms. Their bodies are painfully close. Charlie can still feel the hum in the air, and in this moment he’s so concerned for this stupid asshole, this motherfucker who abuses his body to impress his friends, who conceals his pain at every given moment, and who is in complete denial about every aspect of his life.

“No,” Charlie repeats, softer. “You haven’t.” He’s looking right into Mac’s warm brown eyes with urgency, trying to communicate to him that, alright, Mac, just this once, it’s okay for you to feel vulnerable, no, I don’t think you’re gay, dude, it’s gonna be okay, Mac. Mac blinks and scoffs weakly.

“I’ll be fine, Charlie,” he says, but his gaze stays locked with Charlie’s, and he makes no move to escape the weird embrace Charlie’s trapped him in.

“Don’t argue with me, dude,” Charlie says. There’s both a softness and a finality to his words. “I’m taking care of you.” The hummingbird-esque hammer of Charlie’s heart in his chest is starting up again, and he wonders if Mac can feel it. That would be alright, he thinks, because Mac needs to know I feel bad about letting him do that, he needs to know, he needs-

Impulsively, Charlie closes the stupid distance between them, kissing Mac softly but urgently, still pressed up tight to him, essentially holding, by himself, the weight of both their bodies. Mac makes a small noise of surprise but reciprocates, letting go of Charlie’s bicep with one hand to cup his face, moving with him hesitantly, almost like he’s afraid Charlie will break, or disappear, or Mac will wake up from this moment, that seems like a dream.

And it tastes like blood, like dirt, like adrenaline, like shitty beer, but that’s what makes it taste like home to Charlie. Mac feels like home to Charlie. And when they inevitably break apart Charlie keeps holding him up, giving Mac his strength, and takes him to the pawn shop, and afterwards pretends that seeing Mac in the wedding dress isn’t doing weird things to his brain. And they don’t say a word about anything, because silence feels like home, too.

When Charlie takes care of Mac he’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> ooooh my god one of these days i'll be able to write abt something other than mac and charlie die. anyways i had fun filling this n i hope you like it.


End file.
